


Cemetery Gates

by moonpie (Sukoshinya)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Coroner!Hyungwon, DARK DARK DARK, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Night Crew!Wonho, Officer!JB, Officer!Jackson, Other, Police Chief/Antagonist!Kihyun, Possible Character Death, Sexually Explicit Scenes, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Zombie!Changkyun, and angsty fic, graphic depictions of murder, seriously major warnings bc this is going to be a very dark, there will be fluff and a happy ending though plz, theres not actual necrophilia, wanna make it rlly clear that this isnt going to be a pretty story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukoshinya/pseuds/moonpie
Summary: [Warning: This fiction will describe or imply acts of murder, sexual assault, suicide, drug use, and graphic scenes. Please be aware this fic is dark. :)]Hyungwon wouldn't describe his life as lively. His days were made up of cold, unforgiving death and the mystery surrounding each unique one. Were his parents thrilled at his choice to become a mortician? No. And was it boring? Never. When in an industry like this, you see everything. So, with tensions rising in the city regarding a new serial killing spree, what was he to do? His job.  But what happens when one of your serial victims sit upright on the operating table, breathing, with no memories and no heartbeat?[ AU where Hyungwon is the head medical examiner in the city's police department, and Changkyun is a zombie, as well as an attempted victim of a serial killer's mantra. Two strangers on the hunt for a heartbeat, trying to find answers and unlock memories. ]
Relationships: A VERY unappreciated but still existing Kihyun/Hyungwon, Chae Hyungwon/Im Changkyun | I.M, Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Implied Kihyun/Shownu but its rlly light, its gonna get messy - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! I really appreciate you taking the time to indulge in this new story I've been working on! I know I'm not the best author, but I've been really focusing on writing a long and dark fic for a long time. Sorry I've been putting off my other projects for this. I hope everyone enjoys! Feedback, commentary, theories or really any comments are always appreciate. Advice is ALWAYS welcome.  
> \- Once again, I do want to make it very clear that this fanfic will include some very dark content and exchanges, and nothing I write here is a reflection of how I view any of these dark topics personally, and are dramatized for entertainment. Thank you so much! I hope I'll start to update more frequently.

> _Skin on skin, hot and shimmering with waxy layers of sweat. Warmth blossomed in between fingers, lips, tongue. Tears mixed with saliva and perspiration, fogging up the windows of the car. Clear, thick plastic cracked and wrinkled beneath knees, hips, arms. Wrists, held together; held down by hands; pale, thin. Skeletal._

_“I want to go home.”_

_Toes curled against the cold glass, ice trickling up like spiderwebs around the corners. Ankles tapped against the door rest, kicking near the handle. Something felt thick, heavy. Something smooth. Something sharp. Something touching._

_“I want to go home.”_

_Noses burning, dripping snow like gasoline. More tears, rolling onto cheeks, onto noses. Slow, aching slow caresses, angelic fingertips on hips. Something sharp, again._

_And again. Ecstasy. Ecstacy in abundance._

_A new flavor, a new spiraling ribbon of copper and hot metal in between teeth. Blood, thick. Dripping, smearing over chins, throats. Grips tightened. Something was melting, thick. Thick thick. Alcohol buzzed, fluid poured. Losing control. You can lose control. Just once. No._

_Bodies parted. Something pulsed, rapid and pounding beneath flesh. Melting, quickly. Melting out. Doors opened; Father Winter settled into the interior. Snowflakes surfed on the frigid waves of wind. Doors closed. Again, once more. Weight shook the car to one side, and suddenly there was life beneath the plastic, and warmth. Swirling. Pulsing. Snowflakes swirled past the glass, and darkness became infinite. Blizzard. Drifting, sliding._

_Gasoline. Blood. Ecstasy. Snow._

_Nothing._

_And finally, nothing. Sweet, forgiving, nothing._


	2. Red Dragon

Hyungwon studied the bright blue folder in his hands, removing the paperclip that kept it all together. He filtered through the certificates, inventory, and removal contracts. All paperwork was unsigned, and left with blanks in almost every underline. The fluorescent lights that stripped the ceiling hummed over the silence of the empty prep room as the clock face on the wall to his right clicked away in harmony. 1:43am. 

“I guess we’ll have to find a special way to mark you down then, John Doe.” He mused aloud to himself, setting the paperwork down on the counter. He ducked underneath the counter to the bottom center drawer, and brought out a cream colored pair of latex gloves. As if he were being rush, he quickly rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt as he stood. He wiped his hands on his medical coat before putting on the gloves. He stretched and curled his fingers, trying to find a sweet spot of comfort around his palm. He smiled as he turned to the silver table behind him, holding his hands up to mimic that of a ‘mad scientist’, flicking his head to one side to push away any strands of white hair that hung in his face. One had to entertain himself in the little ways during late nights...it's not as if the company was ever enthusiastic. 

“Let’s see what we can do.” 

Hyungwon picked the paperwork back up off the counter, and fumbled for the pen that rolled away as he did so. There was a break in the plastic wrapping that blanketed the body where the body bag’s zipper shimmered under the light. With one arm, he gently parted the plastic, exposing more of the bag beneath, following to then slowly unzip it. For a moment, he was surprised that the smell of death hadn’t hit him right away. But, he was definitely used to it by either way... The fresh ones are never musky. 

‘ _ Young; very intact. Broad nose, no stubble, black hair…’  _ Hyungwon wrote the details in the form of short notes on a blank info sheet. His cheeks were starting to turn pink, he had noticed, from the blood that would begin to pool from the rest of the face, towards the back of the head. Hyungwon gently exposed the rest of him, unzipping the bag all the way. He placed a part of the internal fabric over the body’s groin; always polite. 

_ ‘Earrings; two yellow bands. No clothing for personal effects. No signs of late decomp. No purging . No sign of external injury.’  _

Hyungwon studied the corpse’s face.  _ Handsome. Poor thing _ , he thought. And it was true; he looked as if he was still in highschool...maybe a freshman in college. Definitely not local, on account of having no evidence and no information. Hyungwon’s eyebrows furrowed as he recalled back to when the call was first received by the sheriff's department. A body, located east bound off the freeway… wrapped in a black sheet in the backseat of a car that had completely rocketed off the side of the overpass. The police said there weren’t any wounds...but it was Hyungwon’s job to find out what killed him. Any broken bones, internal injury, drug use… it was a morbid profession. But with his family owning a funeral home in his youth, he believed he was born numb to the knowledge of death. Too many who-done-it books and mystery movies turned him away from the business and into the dirty work. It was something he was passionate about. Never boring.

“Can you work overtime on this case?” Shownu asked, holding out the blue file. Hyungwon sighed, 

“I would be happy to take the pay. But-”

“Kihyun just wants it done. They don’t have time for John Doe cases.” The burnette retorted, almost pouty, “Plus, they’re going to be clearing out the coolers for cleaning in the morning and they want the files before then.”

Shownu was broad, and fit; his tanned skin accented every detail on his face. He kept his dark hair parted ⅔, greased and clean cut around his ears. Never had it any way else as long as he had known him. He was intimidating, perhaps at first glance. But the more you looked, and the more you spoke, the softer and sweeter he truly was. Hyungwon had known him since high school; he knew that sweetness more than anyone else in the office. His presence was so warm; it was, sometimes, the only reason Hyungwon felt was able to get through work on those off days. 

Hyungwon pouted for a moment, as if to match Shownu’s voice, but quickly smiled,

“He just has such a particular way of making things complicated, huh?” 

He was lighthearted, amused by his coworker’s attitude towards his chief. They sounded like they were talking about Kihyun like he was their mother.

“There aren’t any facesheets but the fire department’s records say he was picked up around 8:00pm. Uh...I’m not the one who put the case away so I’m not sure if they tagged him or not but. You’ll have to check.”

“Not a problem. Do you want me to alarm the care center before I go?”

Shownu quirked his brow, and sat a finger over his bottom lip. He hissed,

“Ah, I think the dawn crew will be here by 2:30, and they have their keys.”

“I might even still be here when they get back…”

The sliding doors to their right slid open, and both of the men turned to look as the unmistakable beeping of an ID card guided them to Kihyun, who was carrying two large cardboard boxes under each arm. His black hair was disheveled, and dangerously close to hiding both of his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with rouge, as if he’d been struggling. 

“Hey, boss.” Shownu chirped. He held out both of his arms, silently offering to take them out of the younger man’s arms. Hyungwon watched in silent bemusement. It was nice to see Kihyun look human, for once; or accept help. 

In the grand scheme of things, Kihyun was insanely orderly. Charming, outside of the office of course, but overwhelmingly particular. He held a very high status in the police department. Although he was working on cases in the coroner’s office, Kihyun was a first responder to a lot of the cases that the sheriff called in and the chief of operations. He’d been working at the office since he was a high school student, graduating from ROP with nothing but the most respected record. It was even in the way he picked off stray hairs from his suits with haste and stop in the hallways to make sure his shoes looked polished, that let the world know he wasn’t there to be fucked with. Or at the very least, it’s what Hyungwon liked to think. 

Kihyun raised his shoulders to allow Shownu to handle the boxes for him. The gold embroidery of his Sheriff's Department patch disappeared behind his sleeves as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Get both of those boxes over to the safe and log them. Personal effects from the Lincoln Highway case.” 

“Hyungwon’s case.” Shownu added, smiling. Hyungwon smiled inreturn, although images of cuddling up in bed passed through his mind to milk the feeling of exhaustion looming on his shoulders. 

“Get the case out to the crematory and get it boxed once you’re finished. It’ll have to wait there while more documents are found.” 

Kihyun paused, pushed his hair back with one hand, and continued, “I want to know if this case has the same type of poisoning as the other three white sheet cases.” 

Shownu frowned, and looked to Hyungwon, “I didn’t know this was a white sheet case.” 

The coroner shrugged, “It's hard to tell. All four victims were clean off evidence say for the drugs and the blanket.” 

Kihyun sniffed, rubbed his nose with the knuckle of his index finger, but said nothing. He straightened his shoulders, and walked past both of them in obviously frustrated silence. Shownu and Hyungwon looked at one another, exchanging an unspoken, “What is his fucking problem? No idea.” 

  
  
  
  


Hyungwon put the paperwork on the counter once more; leaving it open face in case he needed to make a change to anything. He sighed, rolling his shoulders back. Constantly leaning over corpses can never do your spine any good. He gently pressed his fingers onto the left of the young man’s chest, just beneath his collar bone. He nudged once, and then twice. He looked up at the wall where a row of different, silver medical tools were hanging. He gently retrieved the scalpel and tissue scissors, propping one in each hand as he leaned back over the body. 

He was met with eyes. Although his expression did not change, his heart stopped. 

The body’s eyes were blinking open, and bile began to seep out of its lips- and it was coughing.

Mother of fucking christ its coughing. 

Hyungwon stepped back, still holding his utensils like silverware as he stared in; expressionless, however internal; horror as the corpse, nearly sitting up, leaned its head to the side to vomit over the table. At first, Hyungwon felt as if he couldn’t bring himself to react to the scene unfolding in front of him. His mind reeled in horror.

And then he began to scream. The instruments that were in his hands hit the linoleum and Hyungwon’s dress shoes squealed against the floor as he scrambled back towards the corner of the room. His shoulder smacked the bottom corner of the wall’s tool kit. It popped up off of its hooks and met the same fate as the other tools, smacking and scattering around the floor. 

He continued to whine as the body sat up, howling absurdities. 

“ **Holy fuck! Holy fuck, holy fuck I’m dead, that fucking IT; Holy fuck** -”

The corpse, very briefly, met eyes with him as it cupped its hands with its face. Off the table it went, collapsing onto the ground as it rolled over and wretched again. Hyungwon shrieked, gasping for air between each frantic cry. He propped his feet up on the counter and spread his arms against the wall. He felt as if his chest was going to combust entirely, burning and hungry for air. 

It heaved forward, moaning, its blushing naked frame writhing on the floor as it vomited again.

“Oh my god.” It choked out, pale lips dribbling excess. Tears rolled down it’s cheeks. Thin, orange and red lines from the bile began to bleed between the borders of the linoleum tiles. Hyungwon fought the urge to vomit himself as he watched the corpse wretch in its own pool. 

What was he supposed to do? What could he do? Tears began to well in Hyungwon’s eyes as he cowered. 

“Oh my god...” It said again. It’s arms were shaking, barely supporting it’s weight as it tried to sit up on the ground. Hyungwon watched the case’s shoulders flex, rising and falling with gasping breaths. It’s porcelain frame was wracking with involuntary sobs. 

Hyungwon let out his own sob, and put a hand on his chest. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding, even now. All his senses were shutting down as he began to feel himself start to cry. The warmth in his face would be consciously irritating in any other circumstance. The latex of his gloves felt sticky against his scrubs.

The corpse put its forehead on the floor, just out of the realm of catching its hair in its own vomit as it heaved, choking. 

“I’m so cold.” 

Hyungwon whimpered at the sound of its voice. Something in his chest tightened, and he looked away towards the wall, trying to focus on anything else before he was sick. 

“Where am I?” 

“Oh god. Oh god.” was all he could manage to respond with. He shut his eyes, tight, and continued to stutter, 

“Holy fuck. Um. You’re dead.” 

He heard the creature move, and it sighed, 

“I’m dead?” It repeated. 

Hyungwon bit his lip, hard, and began to search deep inside of his mind for the confidence to look back. The fact that this was even happening was overwhelming and the adrenaline was exhausting him quickly. He felt a hot tear roll down his cheeks, and he took a deep breath. The corpse looked up at the ceiling and coughed, as if trying to hold back its nausea. Cold sweat beaded at the tip of its nose. 

“I’m so fucking cold.” It sighed, wrapping its arms around its naked chest. Hyungwon finally found the guts, somewhere mangled in his chest, to look down at his case and swallowed, hard.

“I don’t feel dead.” 

“I- I don’t know-“

The corpse held a hand to its chest, although weak. It hung its head as it did so.

“I can’t feel my heart beating.” It whimpered, and he could hear the fear shake in the body’s voice. 

Hyungwon slid one leg slowly off the table, and then another before he stood, supporting his weight with both arms on the ledge of the counter. He could feel his body cooling down, beginning to take in the exhaustion that came from his horror. 

“I can’t believe this is real.” He murmured,

“You didn’t have anything when you came in here. Are you…” he paused, glanced at the vomit, and then continued as he tried to forget what he just reminded himself of, “Oh my god.” 

There was silence. 

Hyungwon crouched down, covering his mouth with one hand. The bile was starting to reek. 

“I don’t know where I am.” 

He noticed more tears roll down the figure’s cheeks. 

“You’re in a morgue.” Hyungwon replied, his voice still shaking. His anxiety was uncontrollable, wavering even if he couldn’t continue to panic. 

“Why?” 

“I’m trying to figure out how you… died. They found you in the backseat of a wrecked car. U-um… in the woods.” 

“I don’t remember anything.” 

“Do you have a name?” 

They were uncomfortable, excruciating pauses between each of their responses, obvious that they both were struggling to get their minds straight. The humming of the fluorescent lights somehow felt louder than before. 

“I don’t.”

Hyungwon nodded, opening his eyes wide. He sighed, raising his eyebrows. 

“T-that’s...understandable.”

It was becoming clear to him that this person in front of him was in fact alive; and he wasn’t sure if that was more concerning than zombies at this point. Especially considering how lacking the pool of information was. Now what was he supposed to do? Call the police? His mind reeled, and he pursed his lips. Strands of his long hair were dancing over his eyes and around his nose, but he was too buried in his mind to push them away. He took a side step to his left, and then another. Shuffling, he took it upon himself to get a better angle of the stranger. He watched as the boy looked up, and then slowly raised its arm to drag the sheet from the autopsy table down to himself, clutching it to his bare chest. When he met eyes with Hyungwon above him, the coroner felt his heart plummet. He watches at the stranger’s eyes fluttered, and roll back. 

With a strange lack of hesitation, it took only seconds for Hyungwon’s knees to hit the floor as he slid forward, holding the boy up with two arms as he collapsed into his shoulder. Another, electric shock of anxiety rippled through Hyungwon’s chest and into his throat. He grimaced, feeling his face burn with stress. The body let out a heavy, but wavering sigh. Soft, warm spots formed circles on his pants as the stranger’s tears came slow and light. 

It was as he sat there on the floor, embracing him, that Hyungwon heard the distant sound of the ID card scanner outside of the prep room. Although it was faint, it was loud enough to make him aware of the fact that he was no longer alone in the building. He felt something close to relief; but only for a brief, brief moment.

_ “What would I become if I got caught with a body on the floor? Or anyone, naked in the lab? What would my excuse be?” _

He looked down at the boy, and felt himself cringe. The bile around his lips dripped onto his smock, and it made Hyungwon shiver with disgust. He looked away, up at the door.

_ “I need to take him to a hospital.” _

“You need to stand up.” Hyungwon whispered. No response. He frowned, nodding his head. The boy’s breath was shallow, and hot against the older man’s chest, and he adjusted his head slightly. Hyungwon felt his stomach twist again as he heard another ID scan go off. His eyes danced back and forth around the door, as if the answer he needed was posted up in front of his face. His heart was pounding again, with a new type of fear. 

He pushed back on the stranger’s weight, rustling him from his exhaustion.

“Get back on the table at the very least.”

More tears appeared in his lap, and the boy only replied with a weak and stifled whimper of protest. He was starting to shake. Hyungwon rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and began to try and stand. His hands guided the weak, brittle man upwards with some great difficulty; the stranger’s knees were shaking and buckling as he was forced to stand. Almost immediately, he clung to Hyungwon’s side as he was ushered over to the autopsy table. He leaned over it, and Hyungwon tried to push his legs up. The body whimpered again, and shivered at the sudden contact with the cold steel. Hyungwon quickly and carefully draped the sheet over him, letting the corner that was damp with vomit hang off to the side, as to not lick against his case’s legs.

“You need to be dead, right now.” He muttered, pushing the sheet up and over the boy’s face. 

“I’m cold.” 

“I know.” 

Hyungwon’s chest was burning, now. His throat was aching, now, but he tried to ignore it. He focused on the cold steel beneath his fingertips, desperate for grounding. 

**_‘Tk tk tk.’_ **

The knock at the prep room door made him huff, and he looked up. He placed a hand on the stranger’s leg, squeezing lightly. Letting him know that he needed to bare with him for just a moment.

“Hyungwon?” A voice called from the other side.

“Can you open that door for me?” He called back, prepping himself to push the table forward. 

A beep came from the small censor above the doors, and they parted to reveal a tall, burly figure in a black polo and slacks. His pale face was beaming with an innocent grin. He ran a hand through his dark red hair, before taking a step to the side. He held up his hands to direct them out the door. 

Hyungwon began to push the table, rolling it forward. He beamed sheepishly back at his coworker. 

“Hi, Hoseok.” He said, nodding politely. 

“Hey. Finishing up an autopsy?” Hoseok watched as the coroner began to make his way down the west corridor, and Hyungwon could tell he was hoping for conversation. 

“Yep! I’m going to bring this one over to the downtown crematory tonight.” He said over his shoulder. Hoseok stumbled behind him, 

“Do you need any help?” His tone was puppy-like and eager. How could someone be so chipper at this hour of the AM? 

“I think I should be fine. Good luck on your calls tonight.” 

Hoseok was still following, trying to match Hyungwon’s uncomfortably quick pace, when a voice called back behind them from the East corridor. 

“Hoseok! I need you help with these files.” 

“Coming!” The brunette chimed back, turning on his heels. Hyungwon waved without looking back, and continued down the corridor with haste. 

He made a steady turn around the corner towards the west wing, near the employee entrance from the parking lot. The west morgue cooler was on the right hand side of the hall in the middle, dressed in bright orange BIOHAZARD labels. He looked up at the ceiling above the door; 

Of course.

As in many funeral homes, morgues and crematories… there were no cameras. And he was aware of this, of course, but it gave him a sense of relief to remind himself of their absence. He watched the body shuffle under the sheet as he pulled the table off to the side, and slid his ID card out of his pocket, and walked quickly up to the steel locker door of the morgue. With haste buzzing through his fingers, he pulled open the latch. Cold, musky air hit his face- but he was used to that by now. You get used to the rot very quickly in this industry; it’s not like you’d ever have a choice. 

“I need you to walk. We’re gonna get you to a hospital.” 

The sheet didn’t respond. Hyungwon’s turned, and pulled the table forward into the cooler by its front end. He heard the body make a small grunt, and then a whimper. 

“It’s so cold…” 

“I know but you absolutely have to get up.” 

Even in the cooler, Hyungwon’s hairline beaded with sweat. Once he had the table pulled as far back as he could into the cooler, avoiding the other blanketed bodies, he gave the boy a soft shove. No response.

He pushed again, a little harder, and slid a hand underneath the sheet, reaching for a hand. 

Gently, he tugged on his wrist. 

Hyungwon’s expression melted into something of surprise and relief as the body sat up slowly, clutching the sheet. The stranger kept his eyes closed, as if he was sleepwalking, swinging his legs slowly over the edge of the table. Hyungwon was quick to support him, stepping forward for him to lean against his chest. The younger man’s knees wobbled, and he danced slowly with his feet to avoid the burn of the icy floor. Hyungwon began to take steps back towards the door, listening carefully between their conjoined shuffling for any voices. As they stumbled towards the door, Hyungwon craned his neck to peer around the cooler door as they approached. 

Clear. He glanced down at the stranger that embraced him, face flushed and grey, before making his way towards the west wing exit. Hyungwon dropped his weight each time the other’s knees began to buckle, supporting him now with his right arm around his waist. As they approached the back doors, Hyungwon turned them around slowly and extended his left arm to press the face of his ID card to the scanner, struggling to hold on to the other boy. As quickly as he could with what little he could muster, he pushed up against the exit with his back and ushered the both of them out the door and into the frigid parking lot air. 

Almost immediately beyond them, one of only three cars parked in the lot, was a black sedan. Hyungwon took a deep, burning breath and heaved the stranger upright, attempting to slug his arm over his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to go.” The other whined. 

“We have to go.” 

“Please…”

They both dipped again as Hyungwon caught his stumbling weight, and he felt his own legs begin to shake. Something was burning in his calves, now. 

Hyungwon pressed his hip up against the passenger side door, waiting for his remote to auto-unlock by its sensor. He leaned back and then bumped his hip against it one more time. There was a soft “chk” of the locks turning, and Hyungwon fumbled to open the door. He gently pushed his arm around the boy’s waist and leaned down, using all of his strength to hold him as he helped him into the passenger seat. The stranger’s head lolled forward, hugging the sheet. The brunette shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side of the car, stepping in. As soon as he sat, he let out a desperate sigh. His muscles were burning, and it became most obvious now that he had finally taken a break. His heart ached, as if it had began to crack his ribs.

“I wanna go home.” It whined, week.

Hyungwon grimaced and gripped the steering wheel with one hand, taking his keys out of his pocket with the other and fingering for the key. He turned the ignition over, and sat back again. 

“I’m scared.” The boy rasped. Hyungwon could see where tears began to brim on his lashes, even though his eyes were closed. What the fuck is he supposed to do? It was all that was running through his mind. The closest hospital in central was half an hour away, and he didn’t want this corpse to… die… again? Die in his car. Kill him? 

“I want to go home.” The stranger cooed.

Hyungwon frowned, and sighed. He ran two hands through his hair, 

“I have a zombie in my car. I have a zombie in my car and I think I’m crazy. You’re an it, not a he. Am I fucking insane?” He felt his face start to burn up again, and he shifted his sedan into drive. He continued to ramble aloud, as if the boy were not there, as he began his way out of the parking lot, 

“I can’t take a fucking zombie to a hospital. I can’t. I can’t have one in my house either. I don’t even know how alive you are and how alive you aren’t. You will absolutely kill me in my sleep. Oh my fucking god. What the fuck.” 

Hyungwon stared blankly ahead, eyes dark and heavy with fatigue, hunched over with a cup of coffee cusped in both hands. Across from him, the corpse was stirring, pressing his hands up against its face, writhing beneath it's white sheet. The zombie's eyelashes were misty, blinking away sleep. His chest rose and fell with heavy, uncomfortable breaths. The sunlight that fell onto him casted his grey skin in a hazy, golden glow. 

“Please don't throw up on my couch.” Hyungwon murmured, monotone. 

“Good morning.” He added, rubbing a thumb around the rim of his mug. 

“Where am I?” 

“U-um well...you’re still dead. Ah; You’re in my house. You remember…?”

He quirked a brow, leaning back into the futon. He watched the creature look around the floor for an answer. 

“Yes. The hospital.” 

“The morgue.” 

The stranger only looked up, puppy eyed, at the response and awkwardly adjust his position, sitting up onto one elbow. 

“Do you know what they're gonna do if you go to a hospital?” 

Another puppy eyed look of concern. Hyungwon felt his chest tighten. 

“If I were to bring a living creature with no pulse into a hospital, I’d lose my job and you’d become a science experiment. Can you feel pain?” 

The silence continued. He noticed tears bead up in the eyes of the undead, and he grimaced, setting his coffee down on the glass center table. He realized that he was rambling, now. Fear still gripped at his rib cage. He wasn’t thinking last night. But the realization had set in fast.

He brought a naked zombie into his house, let it pass out on his couch, and now he is alone with it. It hasn’t killed him yet. 

The stranger crossed its arm around its chest, saying nothing. His black hair shadowed his eyes. 

“They didn’t have any information on you. Like your name or anything.” 

“My name?” 

They both shared another silence.

“It’s… I’m… uh… I am…” 

“IM?” Hyungwon repeated it in one syllable.

The zombie didn’t respond, as if it were at a loss for words. Hyungwon pursed his lips, and nodded. 

“Okay. IM. Do you plan on killing me?” 

The zombie, now IM, furrowed his brows and frowned. He pulled the sheet up, and wrapped it around his arms. 

“No. I don’t think so.” IM murmured. His voice was deep, husky, and monotone; Hyungwon never thought about it consciously until just now. 

The older man leaned forward and put his head in his hands, supporting his elbows just before his knees. 

There was another long, and tense silence before the sound of his toasted made him raise his eyebrows, and he looked up towards the kitchen. In a moment's notice, he was already up and walking past IM without any second glance. He turned to the other side of breakfast bar island, his pink slippers making soft and slow pats on the checkerboard tile. He pulled two English muffins out his toaster with his fingertips, and quickly dropped them onto the ceramic plate to his right. The edges of each were perfectly dark, blending into gold crust… a little burnt. But how he preferred it. 

“Do you feel hungry?” He asked as he reached to the cupboard above the stove, to his left, hunting for jam. 

“No.” He heard.

He now bent down for a butter knife. 

“Well, where did you live?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He slathered a thick, messy layer of apricot preserve over each muffin. He raised his eyebrows down at them, and made a face that read, ‘I didn’t think so.’ 

“You’re not helping yourself very much. Can you feel your heartbeat?” 

“No.” 

Hyungwon glanced up, only briefly, to catch IM placing a hand on his chest, dropping the sheet to his hips to do so.

“How old are you? Do you know that?” 

“I don’t know. I think…”

Hyungwon set down his knife, and turned towards the breakfast island, propping himself on one elbow as he looked back at IM, waiting for him to finish. 

“I think I’m t-... twentyish. Older than.” 

Hyungwon nodded as he picked up a muffin with his free hand, starting it with one small bite. His appetite was wavering as he watched the zombie on his couch. 

“Do you remember anything?” He said between his first and second bite.

IM’s lashes fluttered, still dewy, now looking around the room. He lolled his head back and forth, pale lips parted. His black hair was dangerous close to his eyes, and matted with sweat and bile. Likely from the body bag, on top of sleep. It made Hyungwon think, momentarily, of how disbelieved his own hair was. He took a brief moment to follow IM’s gaze around the room...he had only had company a few times, and it had been long since someone had been in his company in his own private space.

The checkerboard tiles from the kitchen stopped at the hardwood floors that would make up the rest of the studio apartment. Hanging from the ceiling, sitting on multiple adjacent shelves, and from pots on the floor, there were plants. Spider plants, snake plants, ferns, succulents. A maroon rug beneath the occupied mustard couch, and a red futon. The only thing in between them on the rug was a small black coffee table with a little porcelain turtle. Beneath the windowsill; a record player, and a tipped over stack of novels. CHARLES MANSON: THE FAMILY sat facing the ceiling, glossy cover reflecting the sunlight that beaded through ajar, sheer white curtains. The snow that blanketed the city only one story below only made the shimmer of the winter sun that much brighter. 

The walls and kitchen were also wood, and the kitchen countertops as well as the cupboards were a very  _ vintage  _ and unflattering shade of yellow. Two round, maple stools sat in front of the breakfast bar, facing the window. Such a bright and warm home for someone who considered himself macabre... “I need something to go off of so you can leave.” 

IM looked back at him, when he said this, and his eyes shined with something that Hyungwon could only describe as...confusion. 

“Where would I go?” IM’s tone was coarse, and slightly anxious. It seemed so out of character for his looks… even if he was lacking blood flow. 

“Listen,” 

Hyungwon put down the crescent of his muffin and clasped both hands together as he swallowed. 

He continued, 

“You're dead. You’re a dead guy! And I don’t think I’ve cracked. I mean really. And the fact that you practically never existed according to all known facts and even science at this point, is very unhelpful. I’m having a mental breakdown.” He held his hands up in exclamation even though his voice maintained its low, blank tone. IM looked back at him, as if he hadn’t the slightest idea of what the fuck he just said. Hyungwon pressed two fingers to his temple, and came out from around the counter.

“You should at least shower. You’re disgusting.” 

IM slowly swung his legs over the couch, careful to keep the white sheet over his waist. He had the expression of an awkward teenager; blank but somehow screaming, ‘ _ This is uncomfortable.’ _

Hyungwon walked over to the hallway, pointing to the left,

“Straight down the hallway. Come on.” He waved a beckoning hand. IM stood without any hesitation, and pulled his sheet around himself. He stumbled forward, but caught his balance and continued slowly past Hyungwon. 

Hyungwon watched and turned to trail behind him. As IM approached the hall, and pushed the door open, Hyungwon noticed a small tattoo decorating his neck. Something glittered beneath his tousled hair, also. He said nothing, and looked past him into the bathroom. The mortician stepped in behind IM, keeping an eye on the zombie as he gazed around the small washroom. 

He reached to his right, and flipped the light switch. Three soft, yellow light bulbs above the mirror came to life.

The same checkered floor as the kitchen, with about as many plants. Sunlight peered in through the window on the wall of the shower. A sheer, black lace shower curtain, on top of a plastic one. wooden lid toilet, and black towels up on the wall. The toothbrush holder was shaped like a turtle, with holes in his back. Only one, purple toothbrush was placed in the middle hole. There was a thin, glass medicine cabinet to the left of the mirror above the yellow acrylic and wood sink. The shower’s tub was one that stood on four paw-like legs, and it’s head was wide and loomed over the tub like a fully grown sunflower. Two bottles of almond vanilla shampoo and conditioner sat side by side on a small shelf hanging off the window’s ledge. Beneath it, a bar of half used charcoal soap. 

Hyungwon slipped past the zombie, squeezing behind him and the sink and going to lean over the tub. He twisted only the right, round tub knob and the shower began to sprinkle into the tub. 

“It’s going to be cold. Hot water might make your skin slip.” He paused as he stood back up, “I don’t know how decomposed you are or if you will continue to.”

IM was backed up against the wall and watching the water fall. After a moment, he grimaced and he looked to Hyungwon. They just stood there, maintaining awkward eye contact with one another for a moment. Suddenly, the zombie’s eyebrows rose behind his bangs.

“Um...do you mind?” He murmured. Hyungwon opened his mouth to say something before closing it, and pointing towards the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Um. I’m gonna go find you some clothes.” He replied, taking four long strides out of the bathroom. Once in the hallway, he closed the door behind him, leaving only a sliver of space open. Further, to his right, there was a hallway closet just before the kitchen. He pulled it open to reveal his wardrobe. A single, white lightbulb was molded to the ceiling by its base. He tugged on the chain that dangled from it, although the sunlight from the living room was almost enough. A six drawer organizer sat beneath the row of several dress shirts, dress jackets, and winter coats. He gently pulled out a black hoodie from the far right of the closest, and took out the hanger. He placed it back on the closet pole, and folded the hoodie over one arm. He crouched down and opened the first drawer on the top of the organizer with his free hand, and pushed through layers of clothing. A thought sparke; he could get out of his robe while IM was occupied. He took a pair of black, distressed jeans from the drawer. He shut it, and moved onto the next drawer. Mostly boxers. He tried the one below it, in the middle. Black sweatpants were thrown loosely on top of the gym shorts that stuffed the drawer. Hyungwon pulled them out, and laid them over the hoodie in his arms. He stood, and shut the drawer with his foot. He reached up, slipped a black long sleeve off of a hanger, and closed the closet.

He cracked it open shortly after doing so to turn the light off before closing it again.

He made his way to the futon and set the clothes down onto the table, beside his now cold cup of coffee. 

He slipped off his robe, and crossed both of his arms around his chest, caressing his bare shoulders. He listened to IM’s body disrupt the rhythm of the shower as he let go of himself, unfolded the jeans and started to slip them over his boxers. He looked down as he buttoned them at his waist, kicking out his legs so that the distress in the knees sat comfortable. He squirmed into the black longsleeve with ease, raising his hands up towards the ceiling. He licked the roof of his mouth as he did so, his morning breath beginning to make his mouth feel like cotton. He’d brush his teeth once IM was out. He picked up the clothes and marched back down the hallway. He approached the door, and reached his arm into the room without opening it; 

“Here.” He said, soft. 

No-one on the other end retrieved the clothes. He coughed, and leaned in a little further, craning his neck. He looked away as he did this, blindly aiming to set the clothes on the lid of the toilet. He wasn’t about to watch some stranger shower. 

“I’m not looking.” He muttered, quiet, closing his eyes as he leaned even further, opening the door. He pawed for the toilet with the end of the sweatpants before finally setting them down, and turning away from the shower. It was then that steam began to kiss his cheeks, and Hyungwon opened his eyes on instinct. Wafting, wispy ribbons of steam were puffing up from above the curtain. IM’s sunlit silhouette smiled beneath the hot water, raising cupped hands up to the steam. He moved his cupped hands onto his arms, embracing himself under the stream as he hung his head. A soft halo formed around him from the light, accenting his sulking side profile. It was apparent that he didn’t hear a single thing that Hyungwon had said, nor noticed his entrance. Hyungwon took in a deep, slow breath. As quietly as his actions would allow, he turned away towards the door, creeping out with haste. He crossed his arms over his chest as he left. He frowned to himself, and made his way over to the kitchen island. He took a seat on one of the barstools, and put his head in his hands. He stared blankly ahead at his half eaten muffins. 

It seemed like forever, in his aching silence, until he heard the shower squeal and the sound of water fade. 

_ ‘Drip. Drip. Drip.’ _

Silence. 

Hyungwon waited, focusing his attention on listening, all together. 

Footsteps. Light. And then there was nothing. 

And nothing….and nothing,

Minutes passed, and Hyungwon caught himself beginning to overthink when he asked himself if perhaps...he had died again. He turned on the stool, and stood up. 

He knocked on the door lightly, “IM. Are you...um…”

_ ‘Should I say alive? Or dead?  _ ’ He thought. He only started to begin his question as he pushed the door open, and he stopped. 

IM was holding his arms above his head, wriggling into the sweatshirt. The black sweatpants hung low on his waist, exposing the small of his back, and up it went to his shoulder blades. His skin was pale, painted with faint purple veins. A soft, green and red bruise surrounded a small, thin wound where his back met his hips. 

The zombie turned, and took a sharp inhale, dipping down to hug himself. The sweater was awkward and barely over his arms. Hyungwon immediately ducked backwards, hearing a weak, _ “Jesus-”  _ come out of IM. He stepped back, and shut the door in his own face before quickly pacing towards the sofa. He sat, crossed his legs, and stared forward at the cold cup of coffee. Back again, rushed to the empty living room.

To Hyungwon, he looked too alive. So uncomfortably alive. His skin, veins, and...well, lack of heartbeat contradicted the image of a healthy young man. The steam coming off of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. It was all human. A complete stranger. In his home. The reminder of red flags spiraled in his mind again, for the hundredth time over. Any reasonable; truly reasonable person, would have either killed him at the given chance, or called in professionals. But of course, the one who feels alive amongst the living, had to make the mindless choice of allowing it to be in his space. It was beyond science, beyond fantasy. Beyond his own conviction. He had bile. No skin slip. Translusense. Bruising. Fatal injury, judging by the wound on his back. At least…its an educated analysis based on the glance.

The idea of opening up a ribcage, examining muscle tissue, and sewing up the parts of a lifeless stranger was never concerning to him. Not strange, nor uncomfortable. It was what he did. And nothing had ever taken him back to the degree where he felt empathetic on anything but surface level. But there was something about hearing his voice, seeing him move and speak, that didn’t blend well with the idea of a full body autopsy. Putting a soul to a corpse was, to him, unnatural. It was his problem with the living; getting attached. Letting the living in. He had no problem in that department with the dead. There were no intimate conversations to be had with the husk of some poor stranger. What could he even truly blame his actions on, now? Motherly instincts on top of lethal adrenaline? Impulse? Attachment to the idea of helplessness? Or was it all fear for his security, and the pressure of being involved? 

He thought once more about the fact that it had been a very long time since the company of another was in those four walls. Why hadn’t he thought to call someone for help? For advice? Would this become a secret? But...who was there to call?

He straightened his shoulders. This wasn’t the time to psychoanalyze himself, or wallow within the turmoil of this situation. He needed to figure something out; something to do with this corpse that was residing in his apartment. Footsteps slowly patted against the hardwood, and stopped just before the living room. The smell of vanilla wafted forward, and kissed Hyungwon’s cheeks. He turned to the figure behind him, sheepish. 

Hyungwon felt something stir in his chest as the image of the zombie still resting in the body bag crossed his mind. IM’s face was dewey, and flushed. Almost as it had been the night before, in the prep room. His wet hair shadowed his eyes, rolling beads onto the bridge of his broad nose. His expression was blank, but his eyes were soft. He looked so young; crude. The hoodie, just as the sweatpants, was loose. He had the hood up, but the dip of the collar exposed his collar bones. Purple veins branched around his chest. 

“My skin is fine.” IM murmured. He was leaning up against the wall. Hyungwon nodded, raising his eyebrows. He brushed a long strand of hair behind his ear,

“Well. Good to know. One less thing we have to worry about.” He mused.

IM did not respond, but looked towards the floor. Hyungwon too, turned away. 

Their silences were becoming painful, at this point. 

“Do you know anything?” IM murmured. 

“No. I don’t.”

He heard IM shuffle his feet.

“I can’t leave you in my house alone. I am uncomfortable even when I’m here.” Hyungwon said, low, “I’m sorry for uh… walking in on you.”

No response. Hyungwon leaned back into the sofa.

“I don’t know how to help you. I’m still trying to figure out why I decided this was the best alternative to anything within reason. I’m not exactly thrilled about this.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw IM’s figure slowly slink downward against the wall. Hyungwon blinked, and sat up once more to crane his neck over the arm of the futon. IM crossed his arms over his head, knees up to his face beneath them. 

“I can’t feel anything.” The boy’s voice was muffled, and soft. “I’m just cold.”

Hyungwon felt that stir rise back up, closer to his throat this time. He watched IM’s shoulders twitch as he spoke, choking on his words. “I don’t know who you are. Or anything. I’m not…-” He paused, as if unsure of how to express the rest of his sentence. Finally, he muttered. “-thrilled, either.” 

“This is all happening so fast…” Hyungwon began. He twisted onto his side, leaning over to face IM, “I am shocked that I’m not consciously fearing for my life, or having you shipped out in a lab container.” 

‘ _ Insensitive.’  _ He criticized himself internally. 

“Do you know how it happened?”

Hyungwon felt that stir drop to the pit of his stomach almost instantly. Suddenly, he was reminded of the fact that the corpse in front of him was technically murdered. He felt his chest tighten as he waited for an answer to bless him. Nothing was coming. Changkyun lifted up his head and looked up at the older man, his now puffy eyes decorating a blank expression. Hyungwon hated that this corpse could cry, above all things. 

“They don’t know who did it. And there’s...no leads to anything. You’re the only thing we have next to evidence. You probably don’t want to know what it's like when they open you up to see how your undead clock is ticking.” Hyungwon spoke slow, and soft. 

“I want to know what I am. I want to know if I can go back. I want to… know who I am.” 

The boy turned away, resting his chin on his arms. Hyungwon said nothing for a moment, studying the other’s features. Pink painted the waterline of his teary eyes, and accented the faintest dusting of rouge. Despite his decaying, color and warmth was just barely traceable in his face. He wondered if it were human, or just his mind begging for something natural. He pursed his lips, and after a long moment, he spoke;

“What does IM stand for?” He asked.

IM lowered his head back into his arms, snuggling himself into the sweatshirt. He shivered, and hugged himself.

“I think my name is Changkyun.”


End file.
